


Explosions

by Tess_DiCorsi



Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2018-01-03 04:11:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tess_DiCorsi/pseuds/Tess_DiCorsi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post "Harm's Way" and before "The Job" in season two. Obviously AU based on what happened at the end of November 2013. Two chapter story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Awesome Job

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Just playing with them and promise not to break anything. Well, as much as you can promise not to break anything in a story called "Explosions" I guess. Author's notes at the end of the story (because they're less annoying that way).

**1\. "We just did an awesome job of not dying." - John Green, "Let It Snow"**

As the EMT hummed Journey's "Any Way You Want It" while she worked, Deeks looked at his fingernails. When he was working the club circuit for the LAPD a while back, he was getting weekly manicures - "menicures" the woman who ran the nail salon called them. He liked the way his hands looked back then. Filed nails, shiny nail plate, well-trimmed cuticles - that look worked for him. Worked for Tim the Club King wannabe, too. Maybe he'd start going back again, he looked good as Tim. The calluses he had from his rehab were bad enough but today's dirt, soot and dried blood were really unattractive.

"Can you lift your head, Officer Deeks?" The EMT, S. Pierce according to her name plate, cupped her hand under his chin and gently pushed.

"How's that?" he asked. "And it's Detective Deeks. Or Marty. You can call me Marty." As he looked up, Deeks saw Kensi about ten feet away, noticeably worried. "How you doing over there, Sunshine?"

She forced a smile. "I'm fine. The bomb squad left with the failed..."

"Yeah, good to know." He turned his attention back to the EMT, not wanting to think about what the bomb squad had when they left. "Are we almost done?"

"A few more minutes. You really should think about going to the hospital."

"Yeah, I was just there in February. I haven't really felt any pressing need to go back. Too many sick people." He saw the EMT smile a little. He figured that was probably a good sign.

"Sam and Callen just got here." Kensi waved to the pair as they walked into the junkyard. The two waved back while taking in the destruction around them.

"Good, just what this place needs, more folks with badges," he said more to himself than to Kensi or EMT Pierce.

The area was loaded with badge and uniform types. He was there with Kensi and now Sam and Callen. The fire department was packing up after putting out what was left of the junkyard's main office. The LAPD bomb squad just picked up and removed an unexploded hand grenade - Deeks now officially hated hand grenades - and was looking around for more explosive devices. The LAPD's car theft and robbery division detectives were sniffing around, checking VIN numbers and storage areas. The FBI and ATF made their presence known. Add in the paramedics Kensi insisted on calling for the cut to his head and the guys from the coroner's office - it was just alphabet agency central at Mason's Auto Dismantling, Savage and Wrecking.

Sam walked over to him while Kensi went with Callen to what was left of the office trailer. "You always have to be the center of attention, don't you Deeks?" Sam teased, shaking his head.

"What can I tell you, Sam. Chicks dig scars." Deeks noticed growing concern as Sam's eyes went to the blood on the formerly white dress shirt he wore that day. It was a custom-made shirt that now wasn't even usable for the rag bag. Great. Another relic of his Tim the Club King wannabe days. Menicures and custom-made shirts with almost no chance of hand grenades - good times.

"We tell you to go interview Mason Lynch and his associates and you blow up half a city block?"

"For the record, I didn't blow up half a city block. We walked into the office and they started shooting and lobbing hand grenades at us."

"Is Kensi OK?"

The EMT went into her kit to get a couple of butterfly bandages. Deeks looked right at Sam, saying with no emotion, "She's Kensi, of course she is. She's fine, just ask her." and meaning exactly the opposite. Sam nodded. He heard it before.

EMT Pierce put three butterfly bandages along Deeks's temple. "I think you should really consider seeing your personal physician, Officer."

"Marty."

"Marty, go to the ER or your personal doctor. Those bandages may not hold..."

"Don't worry, Ms. Pierce," Sam reading the woman's name on her uniform joked. "I'll keep an eye on him. He's got a hard head without much in it so I'm sure he'll be fine." Sam's tone was joking, the look in his eyes was anything but.

"Gee, thanks Sam," Deeks said dryly. He genuinely thanked EMT Pierce as he signed some paperwork. Once done, Deeks and Sam started toward their partners.

Kensi was talking a mile a minute in the rubble of the office trailer while Callen was looking at burned files on what was left of Mason Lynch's desk. The coroner's assistant and a few CSI's were in and around the office trailer, picking up what was left of Lynch, Gilberto Ramos and David Frazier. The place smelled of a lot of things, fire and death mostly.

"Are you OK?" Kensi asked as Deeks walked up with Sam.

"Nothing a couple of Tylenols won't fix."

"You never struck me as a bleeder, Deeks." Callen joked as he tried to jimmy open a charred file cabinet.

Deeks just shrugged. "Lynch and his buddies weren't real forthcoming about the missing weapons."

"We're not going to get much more from them." Sam pointed to three body bags outside of the former office. "They didn't say anything?"

Deeks looked at the body bags and stared at the junkyard while Kensi started talking. "We walked in, ID'd ourselves, mentioned the hijackings and before I could finish my first question, Ramos came out of the back office area with a rifle. Deeks yelled 'gun.' He was by the front window. I was by the door. It all just went to hell at that point."

Deeks scanned the junkyard, not needing to hear what happened again. He survived it - that was enough. Watching all the law enforcement officials wandering about, something shiny caught his eye. Since there shouldn't be anything shiny in a place like this, he thought that was worth a look. Deeks exited the hole that once was the front window of the office for the second time that day. The first time, Ramos was swearing and trying to blow off his head.

"Deeks?" Sam, Kensi and Callen said in unison.

He put his hand up as he walked away. "Hold on a sec," he told them as he started making his way through the junkyard. He found a tool cart near the destroyed office and grabbed a crowbar. He walked to the far end of junkyard but with a direct line of sight from what was the front office trailer window.

"Deeks, what do you see?" Kensi asked as she, Callen and Sam followed.

"Shiny" was his response.

"How bad was that head wound?" Sam wondered aloud.

Deeks walked up to an old, rusted semi-trailer sitting near the back of the junkyard lot. "Shiny," he told the three NCIS agents, pointing to the back of the filthy semi-trailer with the brand new lock, locking hasp and latch.

Callen agreed, "Shiny."

It took three tries with the crowbar before Deeks was able to separate the shiny new lock system from the old semi-trailer. Once the lock was gone, Callen and Deeks opened the back of the trailer. Inside were the crates of missing M27 and M249 rifles from Camp Pendleton.

"Shiny," Kensi said as she started to smile, looking at the weapons and then at Deeks.

"LAPD one," Deeks said as he threw the crowbar to Sam, "dead, grenade-throwing bad guys zero."

"Hey Deeks, catch." Eric tossed him a wireless laptop mouse as the tech walked to the bullpen from the gadget room. A freshly showered Deeks in a clean tee-shirt was able to make a showy catch behind his back before plopping down at his desk. "Nice," was Eric's reaction.

"What was wrong with the mouse?" Deeks shook it before pulling his LAPD issued laptop out of his messenger bag and started booting it up.

"Besides the fact that it is a no-name brand piece of junk? Two things. First, you can't bang it on your desk every time it doesn't do what you want it to do."

"I can't?" Deeks faked cluelessness. "But it makes me feel better."

"It doesn't make the mouse feel better. The other problem was the tracker ball in the mouse was filthy. You have to clean it out from time to time. Dust, lint, sand are all bad for the ball in your mouse."

Deeks chuckled for what felt like the first time that afternoon. "That sounds vaguely dirty."

"I'm sure I'll be sorry I asked but what sounds vaguely dirty?" Kensi, also freshly showered and in clean clothes, walked to her desk with some sort of beverage. Both of them reeked of smoke after the explosion and it was nice to be clean.

In his most serious voice, Deeks said "Eric is chiding me for beating my mouse and not cleaning its ball."

Kensi nearly did a spit take. Mission almost accomplished. He'd get her someday.

Stifling a laugh, Eric said, "I can give you an optical mouse. We have a drawer full of them upstairs."

"LAPD property," Deeks picked up the mouse. "Thanks anyway."

Hetty walked into the bullpen, "Mr. Deeks, how is your head?"

Deeks tried to go without the butterfly bandages after the shower but the bleeding started again. Since he was down one shirt already and a good one, he was back looking like the walking wounded. "Thick and empty, according to Sam," Deeks joked. When it was obvious Hetty was not amused, he answered truthfully, "Have a bit of a headache but I'm fine. Unless you need something from me, I was planning to write up the after action reports and go home."

"How are you getting home, Mr. Deeks?"

"I'll give him a lift," Kensi volunteered.

"I'm fine." Deeks really just wanted to write his reports and forget the day.

"Mr. Deeks, I recommend you take Miss Blye's offer. I've already taken the liberty of having Mr. Gardner drive your car home. Mr. Roberts is following him with his car and will give Mr. Gardner a ride back to the office. More importantly, I need you fresh and well-rested after the weekend."

Deeks would have been annoyed by any previous boss taking away his car somehow Hetty's concern meant something to him. Meant a lot, actually. "Why do I need to be fresh and rested after the weekend?"

"Chief Warner from LAPD headquarters called. He wants a debrief from you and from me about today's events."

Deeks smiled. "Let me guess, Monday afternoon around two, probably at the boat shed."

"Well, he wanted the meeting this afternoon at four but I told him you were slightly injured in the explosion and our office would not have the appropriate paperwork for a proper debriefing until at least Monday morning. Two o'clock seemed to be an ideal time. And yes, at the boat shed."

"An ideal time for Warner."

"Excuse me?"

"Warner just got the big promotion to Deputy Chief last summer. He's been working like a dog ever since. He sent out memos on Christmas day. He's also a crazy college basketball fan. He can have a meeting at the boat shed Monday at two, rubber stamp whatever paperwork we bring, remind the Chief and the Commissioner that he's got a good grip on the liaison program and end the meeting in thirty minutes so he can be home for the Monday's tip-off."

"He said he wanted to see us today."

"Knowing you wouldn't want to have a quick debrief. Hetty, if you told him it was a matter of national security and you couldn't share any information, he'd thank you for your time and hang up. He gets to have a meeting Monday where he can wrap things up, hit Ralph's for some chips and dip and be parked in front of his 55 inch plasma for the National Anthem and the Championship Game."

Hetty did not look pleased.

"I'll take the meeting alone, Hetty. I needed to get Warner a congratulatory bottle of scotch anyway and wish him well in his new position. I got it covered."

"Oh, I'm sure you do have it covered, Detective. And I wouldn't miss the opportunity to welcome Chief Warner into the fold as a valuable partner in the liaison program."

Deeks could see Hetty devising a plan. "Hetty, please, things are always a little tense with me and the Department. Lt. Bates may be square with me right now because I'm out of his hair but there is still a lot of unhappiness about everything that happened with my shooting."

"The fact that the Department didn't properly protect you or the hospital is on them," Kensi jumped in, still a bit steamed about a bleeding Deeks riding to her rescue.

"And mostly it is," Deeks told Kensi. "But the Department takes real issue with the fact that I was seen as an expendable pawn to get to an unnamed NCIS agent in a matter they know nothing about because the vast majority of the information, including you Kensi, is classified. Everything given to them about the Bashar case was so heavily redacted that they think NCIS is holding out on them. And they are." Deeks turned to Hetty, "Please, I need all the friends I can get downtown."

"Mr. Deeks, the Department knew there would be classified matters where they could not be read in. That is part of the reason you're here, to manage those matters."

"And I'm happy I'm here. Even more after what happened earlier. But if you're going to do anything to Warner, you're going to wind up doing it to me too."

Hetty nodded, "Monday at two."

Deeks pointed to his non-bandaged temple. "Made a note."

As Hetty walked away, Deeks plugged the receiver into the USB port and turned on the mouse. "Kensi, you don't have to drive me home." He looked over at Kensi, who was studying him intently. "I'll walk to the Pier and grab a cab."

"No, I'll drive you home."

"Kensi, I have to write my report for Warner then write Hetty's." He looked at his watch - five in the afternoon, he figured it would be eight before he was done. "I'm going to be here awhile. Just go home, I'm fine."

"Can't you just write one report for both? The same thing happened, why two reports?"

"How does Hetty want her reports?"

"Spell-checked," Kensi joked.

"Besides that." Deeks typed in his password for the LAPD's database.

"Hetty wants a very thorough report," Kensi now recited what she, Deeks, Sam and Callen knew by heart, "complete with personal observations to support the narrative for each event to enhance both professional development and NCIS's ability to game plan and prepare for future operations."

"The LAPD just wants the facts for any court involvement. Date, time, location, action, reaction. They're not all that concerned about future operations. They're interested in the bad guys going to jail." The laptop beeped that he was finally connected to LAPD. "Kensi, go home. I'm fine. I'll even call you when I get to my place."

"How about you write your reports and I'll get us something to eat. We missed lunch." She grabbed her keys. "Don't leave."

"Like Hetty is going to let me go anywhere..." he muttered.

Kensi started to leave but turned back. "Can I read one of your LAPD reports?"

"I guess." Deeks thought it was an odd request, his LAPD work was never a blip on Kensi's radar. "Any case in particular?"

"Whatever you can get. I'll be back in a few."

He watched her walk away. She'd probably be really annoyed by how much he liked that aspect of their partnership. He pulled up the Brian Roth after action report, their first case as partners, and e-mailed it to her.

x-x-x

Sam's voice broke his concentration. "Hey Deeks, you got a minute?" He stood at the stairs landing, pointing to Ops.

Deeks was about fifteen minutes into his LAPD report. God knows where Kensi disappeared to - her mentioning food made him hungry. Now he was starved and looking at an unhappy Sam Hanna. Deeks saved his work and followed Sam upstairs.

The two walked into Ops with only Nell sitting there. She pointed to the large video board. "We found some security video from the warehouse next door to the junkyard."

The video showed Deeks and Kensi walking through the junkyard and into the office. About a minute later, Deeks watched himself crash through the front window and turn back to find Kensi.

"That looks cooler onscreen than it actually was," Deeks said to nobody in particular. Once again, he knew the results and wasn't sure why they were watching. Kensi appeared on the screen. He didn't remember grabbing her arm as they ran for cover behind a couple of junkers on the right side of the office trailer.

"Guys, I know how this movie ends..." Deeks started as on-screen Kensi popped up from behind a car and returned fire.

Sam stopped the video. "Where are you? Kensi's firing, why aren't you?"

"I was calling in to LAPD." Deeks wasn't sure why he was being interrogated. "Officer needs assistance call. I'm sure Nell can find it in the dispatch system."

"Why didn't you call us?"

"Didn't think you guys were close by and LAPD had cars in that area. The weapons hijacking was good luck on Lynch and his crew's part, bad luck for the guys from Pendleton. There have been jobs in that area where the hijacking crew got cigarettes, electronics, auto parts, diapers. Real easy to lose a truck in that neighborhood. LAPD has been in the area looking around." Deeks ran his hand through his hair - he did not like where this was going. "Besides, it took you guys nearly an hour to get there after the fireworks. I'm sure someone from that warehouse where you got the video called in the shots fired anyway."

The video started again and the hand grenade flew across the screen. "How far did it land from you too?"

"About three feet left of me. I was to Kensi's left."

Sam nodded and continued to watch the screen. On-screen Kensi comes flying out from behind the car, on-screen Deeks is standing and firing while she takes cover behind a row of cars near the entrance to the junk yard. Deeks follows, still shooting. As he took cover, the second grenade came flying out the hole where the window was.

Sam stopped the video again. "Why didn't you get out of the lot?"

"We thought there was a way to get out through that row of cars. We were wrong."

"So they had you pinned down."

"Yes Sam, they had us pinned down." Deeks was beginning to lose patience with this video review. He had reports to write, a meeting to prepare for with LAPD on Monday complete with Hetty in attendance and now he was being cross-examined by Sam.

Sam restarted the video. On-screen Deeks popped up with the grenade in his right hand. Sam stopped the video. "Where did the grenade land, by you or by Kensi?"

"It actually hit my boot."

"Right or left?"

"Right."

"Where was Kensi?"

"About a foot to my right."

"So it landed between you."

"Yeah."

Sam restarted the video. On-screen Deeks threw the grenade back into the office window. Sam stopped the video. "What is going through your mind?"

"Right now? Nice throw, good form, excellent follow through. I really stepped into that throw. Derek Jeter would be proud."

Sam shot Deeks a look.

"What was I thinking? I was thinking that I hate hand grenades. I was thinking that it was weird the first grenade hadn't exploded yet. I was thinking that I really didn't want to die in a junkyard. I was thinking that I didn't want to get Kensi killed. I was thinking that if they had hand grenades going back at them they'd stop throwing hand grenades at us."

"If you pick up a hand grenade, you could lose your hand."

"I leave it there, I lose my partner because there was nowhere for her to go. I leave it there and she somehow survives us being split up, she's cornered with a lunatic throwing hand grenades. Look, I'm sure there is some special SEAL training you got to deal with situations like this and I'm also sure Hetty is signing me up right now for a hand grenade management class but I did the best I could. I'm alive, she's alive." Deeks reached over and hit the play button for the video. On-screen Deeks just starts to duck behind an old Ford when the office explodes. He watches as his on-screen head start to bleed.

"Do you know what hit you, Detective?" Nell finally spoke.

"I think it was a piece of glass. There was a lot of debris." Deeks turned to Sam. "Are we done here? My head hurts, I have two reports to write, I haven't eaten anything since breakfast and since Hetty's taken away my driving privileges, Kensi's stuck here as long as I am."

"Yeah Deeks, we're done."

Deeks started to the door, "Nell, can you get me a copy of that video? I'll forward it to LAPD."

"I'd be happy to send it to them, Detective."

"No thanks, I'll send it with my report tonight. Hetty and I have to do a little song and dance for one of my bosses Monday. The video should make things easier." That is if Hetty doesn't spend the weekend figuring out how to terrorize Warner, Deeks thought.

"Hey, Deeks." Sam called as he was leaving the room, "You did a good job there, I was just wondering what your thought process was."

"I'm a cop Sam, thought process is always the same. Catch the bad guys, go home alive." Deeks left and started down the stairs.

"I was wondering where you were." Kensi handed him a takeout tin container.

"I'm Mr. Popular today. What did you get me to eat?"

Deeks was happy with his hot turkey sandwich, fries and cole slaw. Kensi demolished a sausage and peppers hero, German potato salad and a brownie. After reading the LAPD after action report on Brian Roth, she did some online training classes while he worked.

Deeks was able to blow through both his LAPD and NCIS after action reports in just over two hours. A call from the LAPD to Deeks confirmed what everyone thought after the explosion - Lynch, Ramos and Frazier were running the hijacking ring. The police didn't find the stolen cigarettes or electronics - they were probably long gone - but several thousand packages of disposable diapers were located in another old trailer. The bomb squad also confirmed that the first grenade was a dud. The pin was pulled and it should have exploded but there was a defective detonator. Kensi and Deeks were lucky. Lynch, Ramos and Frazier were not.

As Callen stopped by after a workout to pick up his gear, Kensi tensed up. Deeks wasn't sure what went on there but had every intention of finding out. Callen wished them both a quieter weekend and hoped they stayed out of trouble.

"Where's the fun in that?" Deeks joked as Callen walked down the hallway. Once Deeks was sure he was alone with Kensi, he asked "You want to tell me what happened with Callen, Kensi?"

"What makes you think something happened?"

Deeks gave her a look and started packing up his laptop. "So the fifteen degree temperature drop in the room when Callen grabbed his stuff didn't just happen."

"He was not happy about what happened today."

"Not happy?"

"Picking up a live grenade is a bad idea, Deeks."

"Yes, Sam told me." Noticing Kensi's confused look, he said "Sam spoke to me while you were getting dinner."

"Callen called and said he wanted to see me at the boat shed just as I got to my truck to get the food."

Deeks stood up and started walking to her desk. "I'm not really crazy about the divide and conquer here."

"What did you tell Sam?" Kensi seemed nervous.

"LAPD code: catch the bad guys, go home alive." Deeks was annoyed. Sam at least had the decency to confront him, Callen went after Kensi. "What did Callen say to you?"

"He just wanted to know about positioning, what I was thinking during what happened?"

"He does realize that we were busy trying to stay alive and not necessarily analyzing our feelings?" Then it dawned on him, "Or was the under-trained cop supposed to freak out when the grenades started flying?"

"You could have lost your hand. You could have died," Kensi's voice was just above a whisper.

"I didn't on either account. The grenade would have gone off between us if I didn't throw it back. What was I supposed to do?"

"I don't know. I think that's what Callen and Sam were trying to figure out."

"I told Sam that Hetty can sign me up for whatever hand grenade management class NCIS offers but I'm in no mood to hear about all the things that could have gone wrong today. You're alive, I'm alive and we found the guns. That's good enough for me."

"I'll drive you home."

Deeks picked up his messenger bag from his desk. "Kensi, I'm not spending a minute this weekend worrying about what Sam, Callen or anyone else thinks. We're alive. We found the weapons. It's all good."

Deeks started to crash in the Kensi's SUV. The adrenaline drop after the day's events, his pounding head and the quick flash of anger he felt before they left the office all finally hit him. Kensi was bopping along to her bad techno music satellite radio station. He was pretty sure the music was timed perfectly with the throbbing in his head.

She took the long way to his apartment, though he thought the drive past the beach was a nice touch. The ocean always made him feel better, the gorgeous sunset off the water as they drove was better still. He only heard Kensi mutter once at a driver - the ocean probably had a calming effect on her as well.

As they turned on Deeks's block, he saw his car about three buildings down from his place. He'd have to thank Gardner when he saw him Monday. Deeks couldn't imagine a man with an advanced degree in computer sciences from Carnegie Mellon was thrilled with dropping off a city cop's car near the beach.

Kensi eased the SUV into the driveway of his apartment building. Just as he started to offer his thanks for the lift, Kensi blurted out, "I need to tell you something."

"Okay." He unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to look at her.

She looked at him, opened her mouth but nothing came out. She shook her head quickly, as if to clear her thoughts and hit the reset button. After a deep breath, however, nothing came out.

"Kensi, are you OK?" Deeks asked.

"It's just..." Kensi started again but then nothing came out.

Any other night, this would be entertaining. Now, he just wanted to go upstairs and rest. "Kensi, why don't you just send me a text? Or leave a message on my phone." He opened the door to the truck. "It's been a long day. You should know, you survived it too." Deeks leaned over and kissed her gently on the temple - the same temple he had bandaged. Figuring he'd try a little mind-reading, Deeks told her, "I'm glad we didn't get blown up either. Night Kensi." He hopped out of the truck with his messenger bag.

"Wait," Kensi called to him as he got to the steps of his building. She was standing next to the SUV. Deeks turned around and watched for the third time as she opened up her mouth and nothing came out.

Deeks's smile was kind as he shook his head. "Goodnight Kensi. Call me, we'll get a beer and figure out whatever is on your mind." He used what little energy he had left to take the stairs two at a time. When he got to the door outside his apartment, he saw that she was watching with a frustrated look on her face, waiting for him to go inside. He waved to her and unlocked his apartment door. He watched from his front window as she backed the SUV out of the driveway. He figured if he didn't hear from her that night, she'd never call and whatever she needed to tell him would be long forgotten.

Monty was snoozing on his dog bed by the front window. He scratched Monty behind the ears but the dog continued his nap. "Can you sniff grenades, Monty? Huh? Maybe we need you to check out all the places Kensi and I go. Sam will be so thrilled to have you around the office, protecting Kensi and me."

He flipped the light on in the kitchen as he made his way to the bedroom. After his gun was secured, Deeks was back in the kitchen, putting out Monty's dinner. Filling the water bowl, he found a note from Danny, the 15-year old he paid to walk Monty every afternoon. Danny, according to his note, was going to Yosemite with his dad and stepmom Easter week for five days and wouldn't be around to walk Monty. He also gave his usual detailed report about Monty's behavior and bathroom habits during their walk. God help him if Danny ever got a smartphone with a camera. A Monty's Weekday Walk blog was a real possibility.

Kensi started knocking on his front door, again in time with the pounding in his head. "Deeks, please, open up," Kensi said.

'Please?' That was odd from her, he thought as he walked to the door. Then again he just finished reading a book report from a teenager about Monty's quality time with fire hydrants after an afternoon at work that included nearly killed by hand grenades. Everything about the day just screamed odd.

Deeks opened the door. Kensi nearly launched herself at him. As she slammed the door, Deeks found his arms full of Kensi and the first real relief from the pounding in his head.

-30-

To be continued.


	2. Worth Seeing

**2\. "It was nice - in the dark and the quiet...and her eyes looking back, like there was something in me worth seeing." ― John Green, "Paper Town"**

 

The tongue in his ear was sadly Monty's. Someone wanted something. He was wearing his wristwatch and nothing else. Looking at Kensi, she was identically clad - big watch, no clothes. For them, for this night, that made perfect sense. Not making perfect sense, his head didn't hurt anymore. Tylenol, it seems, has nothing on Kensi Blye.

Pulling the bed sheet over her, Deeks got up and followed their trail of clothing and Monty into his living room. As he picked their clothing up, he saw that Monty had Kensi's bra in his dog bed, proving the dog was far smarter than anyone thought. Slipping on his boxers - which landed on the bedroom doorknob - he put out some water for his dog and made his way back to Kensi.

He could see in the moonlight that they slept about two hours. As beautiful as she was in the moonlight, he wasn't interested in sharing that fact with the neighborhood. After he closed the blinds, he folded the rest of their clothes and putting them on his dresser. Just as he placed her bra on top of their clothes and far from Monty's thieving paws, Deeks heard Kensi stir.

"Hey," she said as she got her bearings.

By the dresser, he flipped on a small lamp that added a little light to the room but kept the shadows near the bed in place. "Hey," was his clever reply. He took a step to the night stand on her side of the bed. God, she had a side of the bed - another revelation for the day. He popped the stand's door open and another light turned on. "You want a beer? I want a beer."

"Sure." She pulled the sheet up with her as she sat up in his bed.

He handed her a Blue Moon and took one for himself. "I also have Coronas but I'm out of limes," he told her as he walked to what he now thought of his side of the bed, chuckling. "Sounds like a country music song," he told her, leaning back against the foot board to look at her. "There's also some Red Bull, orange juice and ice water in the real fridge."

"You have a refrigerator in the bedroom?" She turned the cap and flipped it on the night stand.

"Mini-fridge." He corrected her as he popped opened his beer and tossed the cap into the trash pail near the balcony door. Lifting his bottle in a toast to her, he explained, "One of the hidden joys of a long undercover operation as a dirt bag is lousy studio apartments with ancient refrigerators that haven't been cleaned since the Raiders were playing in the Coliseum. One assignment had me in a WeHo studio with a fridge that was louder than Times Square on New Year's Eve. I bought a hundred dollar mini-fridge, stuck it in that night stand and took it with me whenever I was in some dump."

"And now it lives here."

"Don't really stay in as many dives now that I'm liaising," Deeks smiled. "It was also helpful for ice packs after an evening in the octagon with Sam Hanna."

Kensi smiled back. "The fridge was the second surprise for me."

"Only the second?" He found the entire home portion of their evening completely surprising.

She patted the bed. "The bed was a surprise."

"You can't tell me you're stunned I sleep on a waterbed."

"Actually, no, makes sense. It's just the bed itself. I thought it would be cold. Or hard. It's neither."

"There's a heater under the mattress to keep things comfortable."

"It is. Comfortable I mean." She took a long pull on her beer.

"Are you comfortable? You OK?"

"Yeah," he thought she sounded surprised by her own answer, "I'm good."

"That you are." He took a long pull on his beer.

Kensi dipped her head, smiling. Shy Kensi was stunning and another revelation to Deeks. She looked at him and pointed to his side. "You're healing up nicely."

Deeks looked down and the small scars from the gunshot wounds he suffered. "I got some cream from a shop in Venice. They put Vitamin E, aloe, calendula with a bunch of other herbs. So far, so good." He really didn't want to talk about his scars. "Kensi, what couldn't you tell me in the truck?"

She waved her hand. "It's nothing. Forget it."

"Kensi, you said you had something to tell me. You tried to tell me twice in your front seat, then again when I was walking to the stairs. Then you come here and ...well, this. And this is awesome. Believe me, this is awesome. But what is it you can't tell me? Or maybe won't tell me." He tried not to sound hurt but hoped she'd see it as a challenge.

"No, it's just..." she started again but couldn't find the words.

"Kensi, you can tell me anything. Please, just talk." Maybe pleading would work since challenging her wasn't.

She took a deep breath and tried again. "Did you ever think you were going to die today?"

"Nope." He shook his head.

Kensi looked down. "When the second one landed next to your foot..."

"Hit my foot."

Kensi shook her head. "Even better," she said more to herself than to him. "When it hit your foot, there wasn't a plan and I couldn't see how we'd survive."

"We did and Kensi, I'll tell you what I told Sam and what I would have told Callen if he cornered me instead of you: catch the bad guys, go home alive. That's my plan every day."

"You didn't think we..."

"Nope," he interrupted. "I don't know how you had time to think about that since we were both too busy working on keeping ourselves alive."

"Have you ever thought you were going to die? I mean, other times."

"When Santo Perez stood over me with his .22, I didn't like my chances. Same when Radovan Lazik called me 'Detective Deeks' in that abandoned power plant with nobody knowing where I was. Like today, I got to go home alive both times. Well, eventually with Perez."

Kensi nodded and took a long pull on her beer. "Before that?"

"There were cases where things went wrong in a hurry, I had one suspect I was sure wanted me, well, he had bad intentions but no, Radovan Lazik and his Boris and Natasha bad guy voice was the first time I really thought I was done." He looked her right in the eye. "Did you really think we were going to die today?"

She sighed. "When the grenade hit your foot, to quote you, I thought we were done."

"That what you wanted to say in the truck?"

"No," she shook her head as she spoke.

"Please Kensi, just tell me."

"I trust you," Kensi started.

"Good." Good that she trusted him, good that she was speaking.

"Not just as my partner or having my back. I know you'd do all that. But I trust you'll be around."

"OK."

"And I think that even if the liaison program was ended, you and I are tight. We're friends."

"I hope so."

"So when you got shot….."

"In my defense, I really didn't volunteer for that," Deeks told her before drinking a bit of his beer.

"No, you didn't." Kensi shifted, almost steeling herself. "It scared me," she whispered.

"If it makes you feel better, getting shot scared me, too."

She smiled but it didn't quite make it to her eyes. "It's funny. I didn't think you could scare me."

"Funny, I didn't think you got scared."

"I didn't either. But I was and that scared me too. When I was waiting for you to wake up, I tried to start figuring out why I was scared."

"And..."

She took a deep breath. "Am I important to you?"

"You have to know that you are. If you don't, I'll make it clear: you matter a great deal to me, Kensi."

She looked surprised. "When did you know that? Did something happen? Did you always know or did it just sneak up on you?"

"I probably knew it for a while before but November 23rd last year, around one in the afternoon cemented it."

Kensi's eyebrow lifted and she smiled. "You have an exact date and time?"

"Well, not an exact time, more an estimation."

"After we survived the Russians and their laser triggers," Kensi nodded her head, seemingly figuring things out.

"No," he told her. "Just before that." He swallowed a little more of his beer before putting the bottle on the floor next to his bed. Looking at her, Deeks started, "When I walked into the room and you had me turn off the light, I was terrified for you. I was ready to call the bomb squad to get you out of there."

"But you didn't."

"Couldn't, you asked me not to. You told me you wanted to get out of there and while I knew it was the wrong thing to do and we could have gotten killed, we almost got killed," Deeks took a deep breath. "You wanted me to get you out of there. You trusted me to get you out of there and I couldn't say no."

Kensi nodded her head. "So that's when you knew. When you wanted to say no but you didn't..."

"No, couldn't. I chose my words carefully, Kensi. Couldn't." He ran his hand through his hair. "I know everyone thinks my problems with LAPD are from me being a screw-up. They aren't. I'm by the book. I'm a pain in the ass that way. I may not do it the way everyone expects but I know the rules and I follow them. It's the only way I can balance what I've had to do as part of my undercover work with trying to be a good cop."

"Okay."

"Every bit of training I've ever had, everything I know as a cop, as the liaison officer or whatever the hell I'm doing in your office told me to get out of that room to call the bomb squad in a safe place so I don't trigger the bomb with my cellphone and get the professionals to get you out. I know what to do."

"But you didn't."

"No, couldn't. You had faith in me, in what we could do as a team and I couldn't say no. I couldn't leave you. So when you want to know when you became more than just my partner, or more than just..." Deeks waved his hand just as Kensi did earlier, "when you became something more. Right there and right then." Deeks took a deep breath. "So yeah, I know."

"I didn't think we'd die that day. You had a plan and I wasn't going to let the Russians win. We're good when we work together."

"We are. Do you know when I started to matter to you?" Deeks asked. "If I matter to you," he added hastily.

"You matter, Deeks, you matter. You're not going to like my answer, though. It's morbid."

"We spent part of the day in a place where two CSU techs were picking up little bits of people and putting them in unused rubber gloves. Can't get a whole lot more morbid than that."

Kensi nodded. "Stick with me on this."

"I'm the one doing the asking."

"I always thought if you'd leave, it would be because LAPD would want you back."

"LAPD doesn't want me back."

"You're good at your job."

"And they're happy I'm doing it with you. I'm where I need to be."

"That you are." Kensi mimicked Deeks's cryptic comments to her earlier. She tilted back her head and drank some of her beer. Putting on the night stand/mini-fridge, she continued. "When Hetty said you were shot, part of me started thinking 'it's happening again.'"

"Dom?"

"Men always figure out a way to leave me."

"Not going anywhere, Kensi."

"That's where you're wrong. Dom didn't think he was going anywhere."

"But he also didn't figure out a way to leave. That was taken from him. I have no intention of having it taken from me. Especially after getting shot."

"You don't always get to decide. When I got to the hospital, they gave me your badge and your watch and for the longest time, I worked hard not to think about anything. Not to think bad things, not to be hopeful."

"Kensi..."

"When Jack left," she cut him off, "I knew he wasn't coming back. I packed up his things, sent them to his Dad. I told the landlord at our old place where to call me if Jack returned but I moved out a month later. I knew he wasn't coming back to me so I never hoped he would. And he didn't. That's the real reason I never looked for him. One rejection was more than enough." Deeks started to say something but Kensi put her hand up. "I found the room where they were holding Dom; one of the rooms, anyway. Then Eric saw him on a security camera and for a couple of minutes, I was happy. We found him. I knew he was going to be saved. And then he was killed."

"I am sorry."

"So after they gave me your badge and your watch," she pointed to his watch, "I worked hard not to be too sure things would work out and not to get too hopeful so that I wouldn't put the whammy on you."

He chuckled at "the whammy" statement. "I'd only be concerned about putting the whammy on Dr. DePaul. She did all the hard work, I was so exhausted from my morning run, the fight at the cash register and the whole getting shot nonsense that I slept through it all."

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Turn it into a joke."

"I'm here and I'm fine. Better than fine right now. Since I can't change what happened, I don't worry about things like that."

"I do."

"Waste of time."

"You know what I did after Dr. DePaul said you'd be OK?"

"Relaxed, I hope."

"No. I sat there and looked at you and tried to figure out when you became this person who mattered to me. Who really mattered."

"I wore you down," Deeks said with a smile and a touch of pride. "I do that to people. Six, seven years from now, Sam will like me. I'm calling it now."

Kensi shook her head. "It was more than that. I liked Dom. I was so happy for the few minutes I thought we rescued him and so sad when we didn't. I cried in front of Callen and Sam. I don't do that."

No she doesn't, Deeks thought to himself. "Kensi..."

She put her hand up, wanting to finish. "If we saved him, he'd have been behind a desk, probably at the Navy Yard once he was healthy again. And that would have been great. He was good with computers, probably could have done what Nell does for the Navy Yard's anti-terrorism team or be the Eric of the Cyber Crimes Unit."

"OK." Deeks had no idea where Kensi was going with this conversation but was grateful she was still speaking.

"But we didn't. He took a bullet for Sam and bled out. He died a hero. He was a hero, really. Dom died after losing months of a too short life as a pawn in a terrorist plan." Kensi took a deep breath. "After they took you back into surgery to redo all your stitches I thought about Dom again. You were bleeding pretty good when the nurses and orderlies got to you. And you did that for me. You could have died because you were a means to an end and I was that end. You got shot, you got hurt again and it was my fault," she blurted out.

"Is that what you think? Is that what you think I think?" Deeks sighed. "I got shot because Vakar wanted to see his son and was willing to kill you, me or anyone else who got in his way. You had nothing to do with that. I went running after you because I figured out too late what was going on. You're my partner and it's on me to make sure you don't go out there and get yourself kidnapped or killed. Someone took you away once. It wasn't happening again if I had a say in it."

"You shouldn't have been in that position in the first place."

"No, and that's mostly on Vakar. I was lazy about my security so a little of that is on me but almost all of it is on the two guns for hire and Vakar. And two of the three of them are dead, making the world a better place."

"I spent days afterwards convinced you'd leave. Go back to LAPD. You wouldn't have to worry about your own security, you wouldn't be in danger."

"Kensi, that wasn't my first trip to the hospital because of work. Wasn't even my first overnight stay. And while I know you guys don't think much of police work, there's a bit of danger involved in that."

"I didn't mean it that way."

"I know what you meant. Here's something you need to know. I'm not Dom. I'm not going anywhere."

"But you see, it was different. I would have been happy Dom left for Washington or moved up to Ops with Eric. You...I would have been...upset if you left."

It starts becoming clearer to Deeks. "And that scares you too."

"I've gotten used to being alone..."

"Kensi, you're not alone, you've got an office full of people who care about you. Callen and Sam watch over you like big brothers. You and Eric are tight, you and Nell have become fast friends. Hetty adores you."

"She does not."

"Oh, she does. They all do." He wondered if she understood how important she was to the team.

"You're more," Kensi's voice was barely a whisper but the look she gave him showed the strength behind the statement.

"Good to hear," he said with a smile. "Very good to hear."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Not like there's a ton of secrets between us right now."

"No, I guess not," she sat up a little straighter. "Why were you so annoyed at Callen? He was just..."

"Making sure the idiot cop didn't get you killed. Sam was doing that same."

"That's not true."

"The idiot cop nearly got you kidnapped or killed six weeks ago."

"You know that's not true."'

"The idiot cop who lost you to the Russians."

"That's not on you either. And stop with the idiot stuff, you idiot," Kensi's smile lit the room.

"I got Sam checking out my daily routine. I got Hetty signing me up for classes. Now I have Callen hassling you about what we did today, what we survived."

"It's not like that."

"It's not?"

"That's what we do, how we do things. What were we talking about when you were writing your reports?"

"How much you liked that brownie?"

She shot him a faux-withering look but the smile returned. "No, your reports to LAPD are bare-bones, just the facts. Hetty, Sam, Callen - they all what to drill down to what you were thinking, why you did what you did. It is part of your professional growth."

"I did what I did so they'd stop throwing grenades at us."

"You can lose your hand throwing a live grenade."

"So I should have let it sit there..."

"No. They're trying to figure out what to do the next time that happens."

"It's going to happen again? Geez, Hetty never hand grenades mentioned that when she signed me up." Deeks was only half-joking.

"Everything can happen again, you know that.

"And tell me Sam wouldn't pick up a grenade and throw it back if Callen was blocked in like you were? Or vice versa."

"I think that's why they spoke to us separately."

"So, what, Callen just got a run down from you of our awesome afternoon."

"Something like that."

Deeks lifted an eyebrow. "You want to try that again, Kens?"

"What did you do with Sam?"

"Oh, we made some Jiffy-Pop popcorn, gave Nell some too and watched Deeks and Kens's excellent adventure."

"There's no eating in Ops." It was Kensi's turn to lift an eyebrow. "Now do you want to try that again?"

"He asked questions, I answered them. Some seriously, some less so. I was annoyed. I'll be happy to learn from their past experiences when they tell me what I should have done. Everyone's very comfortable telling me what could have gone wrong if the damn thing exploded in my hand. I still haven't heard from anyone what was the alternative to throwing it back. You'd be in big trouble and so would I if I just left it there."

"They don't have an answer. Just fears."

"Cop rules - catch the bad guys, go home alive. Two for two today. Now, what was your 'something like that' conversation with Callen."

"I may have been..." she started waving her hand again.

"Yes?"

"Vocal in my defense of you."

Deeks's smile was bright was he batted his eyes at her. "You defended my honor."

"Like you, I wanted to know what you, what we were supposed to do differently."

"And?"

"Like Sam, Callen didn't have an answer."

"And?"

"And I told him that we could have died and all he was looking for was what we did wrong. I told him that we did the best we could and until he had an answer for what you, we, should have done differently, I was fine with us surviving the day."

"You did defend my honor."

"Defended our honor. Or professionalism. Or whatever. You and I can save the day from time to time."

"And we did."

"And we're going to keep saving the day. We're good at this. We're a good team and while I think you and I can make each other crazy every now and again, we work."

"We do," Deeks picked up his beer and took the final swig. "And I wouldn't mind making you crazy right now," he told her with a big smile.

"You think you're up that?" she teased as he put the empty bottle on the floor.

Deeks started making his way up the bed to Kensi. "I'm up to that and a whole lot more," he told her before kissing her.

"How do we handle this at work?" Kensi asked, a little breathless from the kiss.

"We won't be doing this at work," Deeks told her as he started placing gentle kisses on her jaw.

"I'm serious," Kensi put her hand along his cheek and pushed him away from her.

"Oh, so am I. I don't need another Sam debrief on how you and I, well, on you and I. Especially if Nell is going to be there running video on the big screen in Ops."

"Deeks," Kensi warned.

"What we do is our business. Not Sam's, not Callen's, not Hetty's," Deeks said, perfectly serious.

"What happens if it doesn't work?"

"What happens if it does?"

"You don't know that."

"And neither do you," Deeks sat back. "Don't assume this won't work. We're a good together. We could be spectacular. You certainly are."

Kensi's smile was spectacular. "You think you're up to it."

"I'm up for any challenge," he slid his boxers off and dropped them by his side of the bed. It was official, he had a side of the bed. And he had it with her.

-30-

Annoying author's notes:

During NaWriNoMo, I decided to take all the half-written stories I had and try to salvage some of them. This is one survivor (there weren't many in that ocean of bad ideas). Since I've tended to write them as an established couple before "The Frozen Lake" happened, this was always my "head canon" on how they became a couple. Kensi and Deeks were different in "The Job" than they were in any prior episode so I ran with that.

Thank you all so much for your kind words and support. Means everything to me.


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